While walking on the soils which scape the landscape of a land I refer to as my home, I feel my feet slib in the clay that forms the ground and
feel my body sinking in the past.
The ground shows us a past beyond human eyes. It shows connections in a scale of geological time hard to imagine from human perspective. Even though the landscape is still rebounding from the past ice age - very slowly bouncing back from the weight the ground had to encounter - our present is shaping the matters of what will become past. It shapes a narrative that will be told when our future, the future of humans and non-humans currently inhabiting the earth, becomes the past.
As my body weight is marking my walk, I sense myself to wonder of the trails I leave behind.
The trails that are shaping the environment with such an influence they become fossils for a new life to discover. It makes me feel uncomfortable, ashamed, thinking of my trails in the present of our capitalistic life. Our narrative, our disturbance expressed worldwide, with compounds created that are not able to decompose. Spreading through waters, soil, food and bodies, which makes my body a messenger of trails. Trails who will show a narrative of interactions that are slowly decomposing, a present slowly becoming a fossil.